Challenges
by Siancore
Summary: A place to share my one-shots, ficlets and drabble based on Writing Challenges for Richonne. If I decide to extend the stories, I will publish them separately.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written for 'Richonne Love Letters Challenge' for **richonnefics** on Tumblr – **_Day 2: Secret Crush_**

This is a High School AU. Enjoy!

* * *

The sound of chatter, sneakers squeaking on the floor, and clanking lockers filled the bustling corridor. Rick Grimes held the small piece of paper in his hand and then glanced around the immediate area; his peers and classmates all retrieving items from their lockers as they were ready to go home. His hand was slightly shaking as he eyed the words written in his own, slightly messy scrawl.

 _Dear Michonne,_

 _I don't know what to say. I don't even know if I'll get the guts to say it to your face, so I'll go ahead and write it down. I think about you all the time. I think you're the smartest and prettiest girl in the whole school. You're so nice and kind and funny. I could listen to you talk all day long. I hope when you read this you'll be wearing the biggest, brightest smile. All I want to do is see you smile._

 _From,_

 _Your Secret Crush_

Before he lost his nerve, Rick folded the note and slipped it into Michonne's locker. His heart was pounding and the noise from the hallway was being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. He felt slightly giddy as his stomach fluttered; a small grin playing on his lips. He waited a moment while he let the feelings of excitement wash over him.

"You didn't have to wait for me, Rick," came a feminine voice; Rick's head turned to see his neighbor, Lori, approaching. She smiled sweetly at him as he stepped out of the way to give her access to her locker.

"It's ah, it's…" Rick stammered when he saw Michonne sauntering along. She looked so animated and jovial as she spoke to her friend, Sasha, while they walked in his direction. Rick felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes met hers for a moment. He offered her a crooked smile, which she returned in kind.

"Nevermind," said Lori as she slammed the door of the narrow storage compartment and shook the boy from his trance; looping her arm through Rick's, she added, "Tell me about it on the way home."

Michonne's frown was missed by Rick as he straightened up and walked with his friend; the urge to look back at Michonne was strong, yet he did not give in to it. If he had have, he would have seen the bright and beautiful smile that graced her features when she found his note and read it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Written for the 'Richonne Love Letters Challenge' by **richonnefics** on Tumblr - **_Day 3: Lost Love Found_** _– The one that got away comes back around. How do you let them know how you feel?_

* * *

The sun shone down on her bare arms and the soft breeze offered reprieve from the striking heat. The warmth was one of the things that Michonne had missed the most while she had lived up North. She could hardly believe it was seven years since she had been back to Georgia. She had missed the easy-going nature of the locals; the friendliness and helpfulness that the people imbued the small town with. She really felt like she was home.

She smiled and looked around the small living room; there were not that many boxes she needed to unpack. When she left King County all those years ago, she only took what she could carry in one bag. Her mind drifted back to that time, and she felt a small pang of regret wash over her. That was short lived as there came a knocking on her front door. Knowing it could only be her close friends, Michonne smiled and answered the door. She was met by Sasha, Maggie and Jesus; each wearing wide grins. They hugged Michonne in turn and then entered the house.

"This is nice," said Sasha as examined the premises.

"I think I was in here once before," said Maggie. "Back in high school at some party."

"It's cute," Jesus offered.

"Oh my gosh, Michonne!" Maggie exclaimed before hugging her friend once more. "I can't believe you're actually here."

"I know," said Michonne.

"We're glad you're back," said Jesus.

"Yeah," Sasha agreed as she peeped around from the corridor. "We missed you."

"I missed you guys, too," said Michonne. "And thanks so much for helping me unpack."

"Don't mention it," said Jesus, before adding, "Let's get started.

xXxXx

"You gonna say something?" asked Jesus, as he drank down the last of his coffee.

"Nothin' to say," said Rick while peering out of his kitchen window; he was overcome by a number of contradictory emotions.

Upon hearing that the love of his life, Michonne, had returned, he felt his stomach drop. He felt hopeful and sad, irritated and happy. His heart beat faster, yet ached at the same time. He was angry with himself for feeling that fleeting moment of joy when Jesus had informed him that she was back in town. He then felt guilty for wishing she had never come back.

"Are you at least gonna ask what she's doing here?" Jesus questioned his friend.

Rick shrugged.

"No," he said, before taking a seat back at the kitchen table. "Don't care."

That was a lie. Rick cared very much about what his lost love was doing. At the beginning, he would ask their mutual friends about her wellbeing, but it only hurt his heart even more to know that she was well; that she was happy in her career choice; that she was doing fine without him. He had always suspected he loved her more than she did him. Why else, he pondered, would it be so easy for her to leave what they had? What he was unaware of, in his heartbreak and sadness, was that she was hurting for him as well.

Alas, that was years ago and Rick thought he was over her for good. This news regarding her return had shaken him to his core. So he lied to their friend, even though Jesus knew that the feelings were still there.

"Okay," said Jesus. "Just giving you the heads up in case you run into her at the store or something."

Rick sighed.

"I hope not," he offered flatly, fallaciously. "But since y'all are still best buds, maybe you could do me a favor?"

"What is it?" asked.

"Drop some of her shit back to her that she left here," said Rick, trying to hide a lot of his hurt.

"Sure," said Jesus as he stood from the table and approached the sink. "But it'll have to wait until later tonight 'cause I've gotta run."

"Okay, I'm rostered on tonight. Take my backdoor key. I'll leave the stuff on the table for you," said Rick as he removed the key and handed it to his friend. "Just take it all. I don't want it here anymore. And thank you."

Jesus nodded and gave Rick a small smile, "It's no trouble at all."

xXxXx

The box was brimming with items that Michonne had left and Rick had held onto. A headband or two; several comic books and novels; some items of clothing; and a multi-colored cat sculpture. Rick held the colourful cat in his hands and smiled at the object. He never really liked it, but Michonne adored the thing. When they split up, she left with such haste that she forgot to take it. Suddenly, Rick felt sad again as he placed the statue into the box.

Running his fingers through his hair, he walked to one of the drawers in the kitchen and retrieved writing materials. He knew he did not want to see Michonne just yet, but he would write her note.

 _To Michonne_ , it started. _Here are some of your things you left. I kept them safe for you…._

"Damn it," said Rick as he scrunched the note up and tossed it on the floor; unhappy with what he had written and feeling like it was a charade.

He took another piece of lined paper and began another note.

 _Michonne, here's your shit you left behind when you dumped me…_

Rick stopped and then tore that page from the writing pad too and giving it the same fate at the other. That was not what he wanted to say at all; that was too crass. Taking a deep breath, Rick began to write:

 _Dear Michonne_ ,

 _It's been a while. I heard you were back in town, Jesus told me. But you already knew that._

 _Honestly, I was conflicted about the news. I wanted to know why, after all this time, and after what happened between us, did you decide to come back to King County? I don't have any right to ask. I'm sorry if I overstepped. Somewhere inside I kind of hoped that it was for me. But that's just foolish of me to think that way._

 _I hope your life has treated you well. I always knew you'd be successful where ever you were. I'm just sorry it couldn't have been with me._

He stopped a moment and held the pen to his lips. There was something therapeutic about writing his feelings down. Even though he had no intention of ever letting her see the letter. Feeling better, Rick continued to write his most sincere and private thoughts:

 _It's been hard for me, all this time, wondering what could have been between us. I always imagined that we'd have a couple of kids running around the yard. You looking beautiful as ever; radiant and pregnant. Me with a potbelly and a smile. Us, happy and healthy._

 _I shouldn't be thinking things like that. I shouldn't be writing things like this. What we had is gone. We both made sure of that. I guess I've never really stopped loving you. I never stopped caring. Honestly, I've always loved you and probably always will. I'm just sad tha…_

Before Rick could continue with his thoughts, finish writing the letter, or discard it like the others, he heard a horn blaring out the front of his house; he knew it was his partner, Shane, who was late as usual, there to pick him up. He dropped the pen, picked up his hat and made his way quickly towards the door.

xXxXx

The bright light from Rick's kitchen disoriented Jesus a little as he entered from the darkness outside. He saw the box sitting on the table and the notepad next to it; he glanced quickly, and upon seeing the note addressed to Michonne, tore it from the pad, folded it and placed it in the box. He left the light on for Rick, exited from the same door, and locked the house again.

…..

Michonne and Sasha were still sitting out on the former's front porch when Jesus showed up, lugging a brown cardboard box with him.

"That better be more wine," said Sasha as he made his way up the steps.

"Unfortunately, it's not," he laughed. "A box of things belonging to Michonne, actually."

The woman in question gave him an odd stare.

"From Deputy Rick Grimes," Jesus explained. "A bunch of stuff he probably should've thrown away years ago."

Jesus plopped it down on the small table; Michonne looked incredulously at it.

"Well, you gonna open it?" asked Sasha.

Michonne sighed, "It's probably just some books I left there."

"Let's find out then," said Jesus.

Michonne rolled her eyes at her friends and then opened the box. She saw something that looked like her beloved cat sculpture, before seeing that there was a piece of paper. She took the note out, unfolded it and began to read.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Written for 'Richonne Love letters Challenge' for richonnefics on Tumblr - Day 4: **_Unconditional Love_** _– A love that surpasses human understanding. How does one express this type of love for someone?_ Richonne College AU

The shade that the tall oak tree provided was a welcome blessing from the heat of the late afternoon sun. Michonne sat on the cool grass with her knees pulled up near her body and her notebook resting on her knees. She tapped the end of her pen against the page that was covered in her neat handwriting before glancing across the courtyard.

Other students were finishing their classes for the day; some walking hurriedly with piles of books in their grasp; others, dawdling like they had not a care in the world. Michonne smiled when she saw Rick approaching her. His confident swagger always enticing to her. His face was alight with a jovial grin as their eyes finally locked.

"Hey," he said when he was close enough to her.

"Hey," replied Michonne.

Rick moved a book that was to her left and took up a seat; he brushed her hair away from the side of her face and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Thanks for waitin' for me," he said as he absentmindedly rubbed her back.

"It's okay," she said. "Besides, I've got this little assessment task to do for my modern lit class, so I thought I'd use the quiet time to get it done."

Rick brought his hand away from Michonne's back and then held up the book that was sitting between them.

"Is that why you're readin' this?" he asked, before reading out the title. " _Dear Fatty_?"

"Yeah," she replied. "It a collection of letters that this British actress wrote to family members and colleagues. It's actually really good."

Rick turned the book over and looked at the blurb on the back.

"Sounds good," he said. "What's the assessment?"

"I have to write a letter," said Michonne.

"That's easy!" said Rick as he nudged her with his shoulder. "Someone as smart as you needs a bit more of a challenge than writing a letter."

She smiled at his compliment.

"Besides, didn't you write three letters of complaint this week already?" he teased.

"Stop," she said, nudging him back. "It's an exercise in expression, not for me to express dissatisfaction with something like those other letters did."

Rick nodded and smiled, "Got it. What exactly does that mean, though? An exercise in expression?"

"It means I have to express a strong desire or emotion in the form of a letter," she explained. "It's an easy enough task."

"All right then," he offered. "Show me what you've got."

Michonne suddenly rested her forearms over her page, as if by instinct; Rick noticed.

"Is that it?" he queried, gesturing to her notebook.

Michonne bit her bottom lip.

"Maybe," she replied coyly.

"Can I read it?" he asked, thoroughly intrigued by her bashfulness pertaining to the matter at hand.

"I don't know," she said. "It's probably a little too sappy."

"It's most likely great," said Rick with a smile, which Michonne returned.

"Fine," she said. "But promise you won't laugh at me."

"I'd never," he said in earnest, placing his hand over his heart.

Michonne handed the notebook to him and then wrapped her arms around her knees; she took in his profile.

"Don't read it out loud," she cautioned, eliciting a nod of the head from Rick.

 _Dear Rick,_ it began; he glanced sideways at her, and offered a sweet smile.

 _How can I tell you just how much you mean to me on this one sheet of paper? There aren't enough minutes in a day for me to tell how much I really love you. There aren't enough lifetimes in an eternity for me to express the depths of my love for you._

 _From the first moment we met, I knew there was something else about you; something that set you aside from all of the other people I had known. There was this kindness in your eyes that made me feel safe. There was a warmth to your smile that made my heart swell; there was this understanding in your discourse that made me feel at ease. A familiarity in your presence that made me trust that I was home._

 _I didn't always feel that way. You, more than anyone, know how truly lost and alone I was. How the devastation that encompassed my very soul left me a shell of who I used to be. Yet you, Rick, you had patience with me when no one else did. You nurtured me; you brought me back. You showed me what it means to love someone so completely that the mere thought of being without them terrifies you. You showed me what it feels like to be loved so sincerely that you are filled with a courage and strength that you never knew you had…_

The words on the page became blurry as Rick's eyes welled with tears upon reading what Michonne had written.

"Babe," he whispered, while wiping his eyes.

"What?" asked Michonne, her voice as soft as his.

"You really feel like this?" he queried, unable to stop the overwhelming emotions from washing over him.

"I do," she said sweetly. "I love you, Rick, more than I can even say."

He remained quiet as they searched each others eyes; gently, Rick took hold of her hand. The engagement ring he had given her, shimmering beautifully in the bright sunlight. It looked radiant against her soft skin.

"I love _you_ , Michonne," he finally said, before placing a kiss to her hand. "You make me a better person. I love you with everything that I am."


	4. Richonne Rom Com Challenge Day 2

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

A/N: Written for RichonneFics' Richonne Rom Com Challenge Day 2: _The Reunion_

* * *

 _Many years ago, in the not too distant past_

The setting was a regular, run-of-the-mill high school gym; the event was the biggest night of the calendar year for the eleventh graders: Junior Prom. The gym, packed with happy-looking teenagers, was transformed. The lights were dimmed that evening to create a festive ambiance; the main point of entry was decorated with streamers and balloons. Multi-coloured lights flashed in time with the imperious bass of some popular song or another as it filled the room; countless young people twirled around the dance floor.

A small group of friends, Michonne Harris, Sasha Williams, Carol Peletier, and Andrea Harrison stood off to the side of the room. They watched as their classmates danced to the music. The upbeat pop song ended and the recognizable guitar riff of Def Leopard's _Pour Some Sugar on Me_ kicked in. A few of the teens cheered upon hearing the song, and the crowd on the floor grew.

Andrea started to sway her hips before calling out over the loud music, "I love this song!"

Sasha, bobbing her head in time with the beat, replied, "Yeah, me too."

The girls scanned the room, eager to get out and dance. Their eyes fell on the group of boys at the next set of tables: Rick Grimes, Shane Walsh, Tyreese Williams, and Daryl Dixon.

"Ugh," said Michonne. "Shane's such a horn-dog."

Shane, playing the air guitar wildly, noticed the girls and began making obscene pelvic thrusts in their direction; his best friend, Rick Grimes, stood back and pretended he had not known the guy since the second grade.

"Tell me about it," said Carol.

"I think he's hot," said Andrea, giving him a small grin.

"You would," Sasha added; the girls all laughed.

"Come on," Andrea urged. "Let's go dance."

"As much as I like this song, I'm not havin' Ty come over and embarrass me," Sasha explained, referring to her brother's overprotective ways.

"Carol?" asked Andrea.

"I hate this song," she replied, as she took a seat and smiled over at the Dixon boy, who shyly looked away when he was caught staring at her.

"Michonne?" Andrea turned to her best friend. "Come dance with me, _please_. Just until Shane notices me."

"Really?"

"Yes," said Andrea. "Don't make me beg."

Michonne looked at the dancefloor, then back at her friend. "Fine," she said. "One dance."

Andrea squealed, grabbed hold of Michonne's hand, and dragged her out onto the floor. They started off slowly, but Andrea was soon shaking her backside and flicking her hair around. Michonne stepped side-to-side at first, but then loosened up. Soon, they were both moving in time with the music and having great fun. The group that Shane was in were watching the pair; Andrea held Michonne's hand and twirled her around while she shot Shane a quick, flirty look. Rick could not keep his eyes off of Michonne; she found her eyes drifting over to him as well.

"Screw it," said Shane as he shoved Rick's chest. "I'm gettin' out there."

Shade sidled up beside the girls and started to dance; he stepped behind Michonne and started grinding, before moving over to Andrea. She smiled at him and turned in his direction; Michonne felt like a third wheel. Pretty soon, Shane and Andrea were up close and personal; they seemed to have forgotten Michonne was there. The song changed, and Whitney Houston's _I Wanna Dance with Somebody_ came blaring through the speakers.

Michonne tapped Andrea on the shoulder; it took a moment to get her attention.

"I'm gonna sit down," she said, a feeling a little awkward.

"No!" said Andrea. "You love this song."

"Yeah, but…"

"Go and ask my boy, Rick, to dance," said Shane, as he grinded away behind Andrea.

Michonne shrugged.

"Go on," said Shane. "I know you like him and he likes you. Go ask him."

Andrea nodded her head as her friend glanced over; the boy in question was still watching her.

"Okay," said Michonne, as she plucked up the courage. She ambled slowly over to the group of boys. Rick watched her as she approached. He loosened up his tie and swallowed hard.

"Hi, Rick," said Michonne shyly, wringing her hands together.

"Hey, Michonne," he replied, even more shyly.

"Did you wanna dance with me?" she asked, getting right to her point.

Rick's face flushed bright red. His mouth went dry, and his palms began to sweat.

"Oh, I ah…I don't really like dancin', but…"

Michonne felt her stomach drop and her heart skip a beat; her face grew warm and she felt so unbelievably silly.

"That's okay. Never mind," she said, quickly before giving him a disappointed smile and walking away; before she got past the long table, Tyreese stood up and stepped forward.

"Michonne, wait," he said, his kind eyes sparkling in the lights. "I'll dance with you, if you like?"

She looked back at Rick quickly; he was watching them with his own look of disappointment etched across his face.

"Sure," she said, feeling less embarrassed by her previous rejection. "I'd like that."

 _Present Day…_

The reception hall was elegantly decorated; tables, with vibrant floral centrepieces, framed the small dance floor. The bride and groom, Bob and Sasha Stookey, sat at their table, sipping champagne and watching their family and friends having a great time. Sasha lifted her glass to her high school friends, Michonne, Andrea, and Carol, who were seated together at a table with her brother Tyreese, friend Rick Grimes, and a couple of others.

The drinks were flowing, and the guests were well on their way to becoming inebriated. Everyone was making small talk, and those who went to school together, were reminiscing about the good old days. Michonne had not seen any of her former classmates since she had moved halfway through senior year, ending her short-lived romance with Tyreese. The two remained in contact through social media, and through Sasha. He still looked great, Michonne mused.

Then there was Rick Grimes, whom she was seated directly across from and stole glances of whenever she could. He looked so _different_. Gone was the cute, boyish face and shortly cropped hair. Now, he wore a neatly trimmed beard and kept his curls longer than she recalled. He was greying, but it looked fetching on him. He still had the same pretty blue eyes and nice smile. She had only gotten to say hello to him earlier, before the food began to arrive. Now that everyone was shifting out of their seats and heading out to the dancefloor, she thought they might get the chance to speak.

He must have been thinking the same thing, because as soon as Andrea vacated her seat, Rick excused himself and took the seat beside Michonne.

"Havin' fun?" he asked, letting his eyes roam over her stunning face. He remembered that she was pretty back in high school, but now, as she sat in front of him in her formfitting red dress, she looked absolutely divine; he loosened his tie.

"Yeah," she replied with a smile; his heart nearly jumped out of his chest at her bright beam. "You?"

"I'm havin' a blast," he said, not taking his eyes off of her. "It's been great to see a lot of familiar faces."

"You're not wrong," Michonne offered, before sipping from her glass; she made a note that he was not wearing a wedding band. "I haven't seen everyone in _ages_."

"I know," he said, feeling glad that she was not wearing any rings on her left hand.

"I almost didn't recognize you," she offered; he absently rubbed a hand over his beard.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she proffered.

"Is that a good thing, or…?"

" _Oh_ , yeah," she said, a little more seductively than she may have meant to; Rick licked his lips.

"Well, you haven't changed a bit," he smiled as he leaned on the table. "Still gorgeous."

She could not hold back a wide grin. "Wow," she supplied.

"What?" he asked with a playful smirk.

"You really _are_ different," said Michonne. "You're definitely not that shy teenager anymore, are you?"

"No, ma'am," he drawled, a flirtatious grin playing on his lips. "But that's enough about me. What is it that you do for work?"

"I'm an English teacher. What about you? What do you do for a living?" she asked, mesmerized by his whole vibe.

"Sheriff's Deputy," Rick answered with pride.

"I love a man in uniform," she said spiritedly. "But I must say, Deputy, you are wearing the _hell_ outta that tux."

He let out a little chuckle and bit his bottom lip. He went to continue their flirting, but was interrupted by a waiter offering them both another drink, which they each took. Suddenly, the slow song that the DJ was playing changed, and one from their past filled the air: _I Wanna Dance with Somebody._

Michonne started to bob her head and sway side-to-side as she drank more of the champagne.

"How long are you in town for?" he queried, enthralled by her presence, captivated by her beauty, and not wanting to let the moment between them pass like he had done all those years ago.

"Just this weekend," she said.

"Well," Rick replied, before finishing off his drink. "We'd better make the most of it then."

Catching on to what he was implying, she flashed another blindingly bright smile.

"What do you suggest?" she teased, running her fingers over the rim of the champagne glass.

Rick gave her a devilish grin, and then held his hand out to her; "Let's start with a dance, and see where that leads us."


	5. Richonne Rom Com Challenge Day 4

A/N: Written for the Richonne Rom Com Fanfiction Challenge Day 4: _Perfect Strangers – Twenty-four hours before, they didn't know the other existed. Twenty-four hours later, they can't imagine spending another day without them._

I struggled with this; I guess that's why it's called a challenge! Anyways, I hope someone out there enjoys it. Thanks.

* * *

 _Presently_ …

The melody of the music swirled around the couple as they swayed in time with the beat. His hand felt safe and strong as it encompassed her soft, slender one. Her head rested gently against his shoulder, as his arm held her body close to his; they each had their eyes closed, relishing in the overwhelming feeling of joy that the other aroused. Michonne lifted her crown from its place of repose, and then found Rick's gaze; she offered him a sweet smile, as he brought his hand up to caress her beautiful face. He shook his head slightly, as if he could scarcely believe the woman standing before him was real. With a tiny grin, Rick closed his eyes, leaned in, and pressed an unhurried kiss to her lips; their first for the evening.

* * *

 _Twenty-four hours ago..._

"Here. Just sit 'em up there," said the widowed farmer and single father, Rick Grimes; his twelve-year-old son, Carl, did as he was told and placed the basket of eggs on top of the wooden table. Their stall was almost ready to go. They were just adding the finishing touches: Fresh, locally grown produce straight from their farm. Rick had even given Carl a little space to display his small, hand-carved creations, in hope that those attending the Harvest Festival might purchase some. The boy was so excited the evening before the event that he could hardly sleep.

"Right," said Rick, as he stood with his hands placed at his hips and examined their set-up. "I think we might be ready. How's your stuff lookin'?"

"Good," replied Carl. "It's gonna be a good day."

"Oh, yeah," Rick said with an optimistic smile. "You can count on it."

* * *

There was a slight freshness to the air, even though the sun was bright and the sky was clear. The three cousins walked side-by-side through the main entranceway of the County fairgrounds. The elder two were thoroughly amused by the youngest's apprehension at attending the event. Their family had all gathered in King County for their grandmother's eightieth birthday, and were currently spending time with one another.

"It's one of the highlights of the calendar year, you know that," said Jacqui, who was a local doctor; Sasha, a firefighter in Atlanta, rolled her eyes at her oldest cousins reasoning.

"We could be somewhere sipping on cocktails," Sasha complained. "I never get to see either of you anymore. Let's not waste time here…"

"I like it," Michonne, an art history professor in New York, replied. "I remember going a couple of times as a kid with Gramma. I'm interested in seeing the craftwork."

"You're not here to research, 'Chonne," said Jacqui, with her brow raised.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I just remember that there's some really cute stuff for sale."

"Yeah, I'm not buying it," Sasha offered. "I got the feeling you're gonna find a vendor, and then talk their ears off. You'll want to know all about how they learned to make the items; if the handicraft was passed down through their families; what cultural significance it holds, etcetera, etcetera."

"Oh, Sash," Michonne replied with a grin. "I'm so glad you've taken note of my research methods."

"I haven't," she admitted. "Not really. I just know how you are; you like to talk to strangers."

"Hush, you," said Michonne as she hooked her arm into Sasha's. "Strangers like talkin' to me, too."

* * *

The atmosphere of the event was festive; country music from a local band wafted across the site; the faint smell of fresh produce intermingled with the scent of homemade candles and marmalades. Carnival food from various sellers tempted people; and children's laughter could be heard in every direction.

Michonne smiled at Sasha as she tried on a few different hats at a clothing and accessories stall. The younger woman's naturally curly hair made it a little difficult to find one that fit her well. She opted, instead, for a headband.

"These are cute," said Jacqui, as she held up a pair of beaded earrings for Michonne.

"Ooh, I like those," Michonne replied, taking the set from Jacqui. "Look at the detail. They must've taken a good while to do. Excuse me. Hi. These earrings…"

"Hey there," said the young woman tending to the stall. "Those are only ten dollars."

"Thank you," said Michonne. "But I wanted to know who made them?"

"Ah, okay," she replied. "I did. I made all of the jewelry and my mama made the clothes."

"That's amazing," said Michonne. "You're very talented. Did your mama teach you a lot about crafting…"

"Here she goes," sighed Sasha. "I may as well buy a few things; we're gonna be here for a while."

* * *

"Jacqui, come on," Sasha pleaded. "Just one corndog."

"Sash, you can go and get one, but I'm getting something a little healthier than that," she answered. "I'm goin' to check out what these farms have been growin'."

"What about you, Michonne?" asked Sasha. "I'll treat you to some cotton candy."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Michonne replied with a grin. "Jacq, we won't be long."

* * *

After garnering provisions that were far from nutritious, Michonne and Sasha found Jacqui at Rick and Carl Grimes' stall. Michonne was immediately interested in the products of handicraft that the boy had on display, and soon sparked up a conversation with the younger Grimes, as she admired the small wooden carvings he created.

"These are really great," said Michonne, gesturing to his creations. "May I?"

"Sure," said Carl.

Sasha rolled her eyes, making an eating gesture to Michonne with her hands, before she scampering off. Michonne nodded to her cousin, and then Sasha was gone.

"These were made by hand?" she queried, turning a carving of a small turtle over in her hand.

"Yeah," the boy replied. "I made them all with my pocket knife. Took a little while, but I don't mind."

"What an incredibly talented young man you are," she offered admiringly, holding the piece up in the afternoon sun briefly, before turning it over once more.

"There ya go, Doc," said a male voice, drawing Michonne's attention from the item that sat in her palm; she saw a good-looking man pass a package over to Jacqui.

"Thanks, Rick," Jacqui replied with a smile.

"Aww, don't mention it," he answered, his eyes darting over to the beautiful stranger standing near his son; their eyes met.

"Let me introduce you to my cousins," said Jacqui, snapping Rick out of his temporary trance.

Only Michonne was there; Jacqui gave her a questioning look. Michonne placed the turtle back down on the table, excused herself, and then stepped over; she gave the man a shy smile, which he returned.

"Well, it looks like one of them has run off," Jacqui joked. "But this is my cousin Michonne. Michonne, this is Rick Grimes."

He smiled widely and extended his hand to her; she responded in kind.

"Pleasure to meet you," he drawled; his kind blue eyes twinkling.

"Likewise," she answered; her bright smile lighting up her entire face.

"You here for Miss Pattie's birthday?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," Michonne replied. "It should be good."

"That's great," he supplied, nodding his head. "She's a real great lady."

"She is."

"Yeah," he said. "So's the Doc. She's great. You seem great, too. I'm sure your whole family's, ya know… _great_."

He could have kicked himself; he wanted to keep talking to the pretty woman, but he was coming across as blithering. Michonne noticed that he seemed a little flustered; she found it cute.

"Well," she said with a smile. "You're only saying that because you probably haven't met our cousin Willie."

This caused Rick to laugh out loud.

"Oh, no," he corrected. "I know Willie very well. Booked him a few times when I was a cop."

Michonne looked at the stranger a little surprised, before offering a small chuckle.

"You were a cop?" she questioned, wholly interested in the man standing before her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "For a good twelve years. Until I took a bullet. The Doc here saved my life."

Rick and Jacqui shared a knowing smile.

"And he's been giving me eggs for free ever since," said Jacqui, holding up the goods Rick had gifted her with. "Which reminds me; I'm gonna get these to the car. You coming, or…?"

"Ah, you go on," said Michonne, her eyes quickly looking back at Rick. "Sasha's gone to look for more food, if you, ya know, wanted to go and find her, or whatever. I'll catch up with you both later?"

Jacqui glanced between Rick and Michonne, then gave her cousin a little smirk before raising an eyebrow.

"All right," she answered. "I'll see you later."

* * *

"So, Carl learned to whittle from your daddy?" Michonne asked Rick.

"Right."

"But you never learned?"

"That's right," he answered, glancing over at Michonne. She was sat in the younger Grimes' seat while he went to explore the Festival. She and Rick had been talking for the better part of the hour.

"It's such an interesting part of folk art and culture," she mused. "Your son's very talented, too."

She picked up the small cat carving.

"I especially love this one," she offered in earnest. "It's too damn gorgeous."

"Keep it," Rick insisted.

"How much?"

"No charge," he smiled.

"Oh, no," she replied. "Carl should be paid for his efforts. How much?"

"How about we wait until he gets back, and he can put a price on it," Rick smiled, knowing that would keep Michonne around for a little while longer.

"Okay," she answered, beaming brightly as she secretly hoped the boy would take his time in returning. "I'll wait."

* * *

Almost two hours had passed, customers had come and gone from Rick's stall, Carl was still off galivanting with his young friends, and Michonne and Rick were still engaged in conversation. It was as if they had a special connection; while they were ultimately strangers, they felt a familiarity with one another.

"Let me get this straight," said Michonne. "Georgia's famous for peaches, you own a farm and are a fruit grower, yet you _don't_ grow peaches?"

"Nope," he said plainly. "I like apples better. Plus, ya know, I'm not a cliché."

She grinned, "Definitely not."

"And you're an art history lecturer who's writing a thesis on American folk art?" Rick queried.

"You got it," said Michonne. "And I am _definitely_ a cliché because I came here today with these…"

She reached into her purse and retrieved a notebook and small recording device.

"…With every intention of getting some research done," Michonne continued.

"And how'd you do?" Rick asked, a little flirtatiously, but genuinely intrigued.

"Mmmm," said Michonne, a playful glint in her eye. "I think I got more than I bargained for."

"And that's a good thing?" asked Rick as his gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips.

"Definitely a good thing," she offered.

"So," said Rick.

"So," Michonne replied.

"I had a ball with you today," he admitted. "It was real nice to spend time with you."

She smiled, "Yeah, I really enjoyed hanging out with you, too."

"Can I see you again, while you're here?" he asked, not wanting to miss the opportunity; Michonne felt her face grow warm as the fluttering in her stomach grew more intense.

"I'd like that," she said softly; Rick's heart was racing as he beamed at her.

"Me, too," he agreed.

The pair stared into one another's eyes and wondered where this newfound connection might take them. Michonne felt that his sweet nature, and the kindness that radiated from him, was singing a song directly to her soul. He was familiar, like a long lost friend, or someone she had met in another lifetime. Rick was certain that she was the most interesting, charming, beautiful, and funny woman he had ever met. Just being in her presence invoked in him a sense of belonging that he had not felt in some time; when she smiled at him, it felt like home.

They may have only just met, but there was something else drawing them together; they may not have a future together that was promised, but they silently swore they would make the most of the time they did have.


End file.
